


Looking In from the Outside

by Renai_chan



Series: Father Figures [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: But he's changing, Confrontation, Howard Stark is a shitty dad and husband, I swear, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Peggy is a BAMF aunt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are stories of the people who witnessed and how they found out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking In from the Outside

**Author's Note:**

> I find it a travesty that the MCU did not capitalize on Peggy and Tony's connection through Howard, so here is my headcanon where Peggy is Tony's godmother and favoritest person in the world.
> 
> I'm worried how Peggy's character might come off in this fic (she's very angry), so here's a disclaimer that I'm not bashing her. I put myself in her position and wrote how I think she would react (which I hope isn't that far off normal). Let me know if it bothers anyone.

"So I draw those Spongebob fish all over the blueprints without either of them knowing I had done so, right? And then Obi gets up and starts pitching the amphibious transport to General McMillan, and when he asks, 'Does that explain the fish?' Obi goes, 'Fish?' and then proceeds to give a ten minute lecture on how the vehicles are protected from wildlife and stray matter and how they, in turn, protect the environment. Then he says, 'I promise you fish aren't going to be a problem, General.' And then the general says, 'I would certainly hope not. I'm pretty sure its Plankton we've got to watch out for.'" Tony bursts out into hysterical, uncontrollable giggles that make him look half his age and twice as bratty. "You should have seen his face, Aunt Peggy!" he gasps through laughs. "He looked at dad like a pimple ready to pop, and dad had this grin on like he was three seconds away from screaming laughter in his face!" Peggy couldn't help her own laughter incited by Tony's incessant howls.  
  
And for a moment, she forgot that her godson wasn't usually like this, that he was often distant and morose and always out to prove himself.

She blamed Howard. She loved him as a friend would, as a sister, as a mother would (not a lover; never a lover), but there was no way she, nor anyone else, could deny that his neglect, his constant belittling and criticism of his son's accomplishments turned this vibrant youth into a sullen, love-starved creature.  
  
This look on him, the pure unadulterated joy and laughter, was so far out of his character that she was pretty sure he'd been mind-swapped, but for now she let it be because Tony, laughing and carefree, was such a beautiful sight that she was loathe to ruin it.  
  
Her opportunity to learn more came when their laughs died away, and they wiped at the moisture in the corners of their eyes and traded a more serious look that was still slightly tainted by amusement.  
  
"It's been so long since I've seen you properly laugh," she mused and casually sipped at her tea. The opening was there, and she hoped Tony would bite. His wide grin turned soft at the edges, and he reached for a biscuit.  
  
"I haven't been this happy in a while," he answered before he bit into it.  
  
"And is there anyone I should thank for that? A lucky lady?" Tony blushed and ducked his head to hide it. He mumbled a 'no' that wasn't quite a no, so Peggy knew she had to pry. She was his godmother; it was her _duty_. "Hiding things from your godmother now are we?" she admonished teasingly. Tony looked wanting to stick his tongue out, but refrained apparently in favor of saying:  
  
"There are a great many things I hide from you, auntie. It's part of the whole adult-child deal." Peggy tapped the side of her nose.  
  
"Ah, but you only _think_ I don't know," she winked. It was a bluff and a tease; she may run an international spy agency, but she wasn't going to use it to invade her godson's private life. But that Tony paled ever so slightly made her think twice about his next words.  
  
"I'm pretty sure you don't know everything, Aunt Pegs," he said. She frowned. Tony was entitled to his secrets, but if he was involved in anything illicit, Peggy would have _words_ for him. This wasn't the place or the time to interrogate him, though, so she dropped that line of thought.  
  
"So this girl you're seeing..."  
  
"I'm not seeing any girl." He wrinkled his nose a bit, as though the very thought was distasteful. Peggy hummed in disbelief.  
  
"Darling, you forget you talk to an aging old hag who has seen her fair share of lovestruck men throughout her life."  
  
"You're hardly _old_ , auntie, and even less of a hag. You are as pretty as the day I first saw you." And that was so terribly sweet that Peggy had to give pause. Then she stood to lean over the table and kissed the top of his head. Tony’s answering smile was radiant.  
  
"That's still not getting you out of telling me," she said as she sat down, prim and standoffish like the true Englishwoman she never was. Tony blushed again and looked down at his tea. He swirled it with a teaspoon before he spoke again.  
  
"It isn't a girl I'm seeing," he finally confessed, and Peggy had to admit that she was more than a little bit surprised that she couldn't speak for a long enough moment that Tony looked up at her through his fringe. He said nothing anyway.  
  
"Oh," she caught herself when his eyes met hers. "Well, not _quite_ the revelation I was expecting." She reached for the teapot to give herself something to do. "I think I would very much like to meet him anyway." This time it was Tony who was silent, but his silence was heavy with something Peggy couldn't understand until she realized he wasn't going to tell her.  
  
And he told her _everything_. Despite their banter earlier, there was little in life that Tony didn't trust her with. That she was feeling a certain degree of mistrust from him now sparked warning bells in her head. She put her cup down and stared at his downcast eyes.  
  
"You're hiding him from me," she said, plainly stating the obvious. The more important thing was, "Why?" Tony visibly struggled to speak. She had caught him in _something_ ; she wasn't sure yet what it was, but it had to be enormous for him to be this tongue tied, this _frightened_ of her.  
  
"I can't, Aunt Peggy," he eventually said. A deep, worried frown tainted her features.  
  
"Tony..."  
  
"Don't make me tell you, auntie," he pleaded, looking up. There was fear and worry and apology in his eyes. " _Please_."   
  
It was his voice that stopped her, and for a long moment they stared at each other in silence, the joyous mood from earlier evaporating almost entirely.  
  
"I could tell you a bit about him and me," he offered, and Peggy decided that that was more than enough, really. He didn't need to explain himself to her nor did he have to tell her what he didn't want to. She had no right to pry and no right to demand of him answers he did not want to give. So she took only what he was offering.  
  
"That would be lovely," she said with as genuine a smile as she could muster.  
  
"Well," he started while stroking the lip of his cup. Peggy didn't rush him, instead watching a slow smile overtake his terrified expression. "He's older than me—much older. He's... intelligent and successful, and he's really gorgeous, Aunt Peggy." His smile turned wistful, exactly the expression Peggy's seen hundreds of times on the faces of young people just fallen in love. It was a strange expression on him because she'd never seen it before, not even with Rumiko who Peggy knew he was determined to marry before she broke up with him. But the expression fit him so well.  
  
"You won't be telling me you've already shagged, will you?" she asked as casually as she could manage. There was a surprised pause before Tony burst into hysterical laughter.  
  
"Oh my _god_ , auntie! You can't ask things like that!"  
  
"Oh, whyever not? Neither of us are blushing virgins," she waved his comment away imperiously. Tony couldn’t reply until he laughed the last of his mirth away, wiping at the tears that came with it.  
  
" _No_ , auntie. I am not telling you whether or not we've shagged yet."  
  
"Pity," Peggy muttered, and Tony laughed again.   
  
"He takes care of me beyond anyone I've ever been with has ever done so before," he said. "He knows what I want and gives me nothing less than that. He doesn't ask for anything I'm not willing to give. In fact, sometimes I have to push him just so that I can get what I want." He sounded perfect from the way Tony looked as he spoke.  
  
"Well, while that all well and good, darling, all I really wanted to know is whether or not he's hung as a horse." Tony laughed again, and then winked, but refused to say another word about the matter. "So, how did you two meet?" He struggled for a moment with his words, obviously trying to keep any clues from slipping out.  
  
"I admire his work a whole lot, and with people like that, all you want is for them to notice you. He didn’t—repeatedly—which you could imagine how I’d react to that because no one ignores Tony Stark." Tony paused, then said sheepishly, "I may have stalked him a little bit—but only a little bit! And he eventually did take notice which, I suppose, is all that really matters in the end." Peggy smiled fondly. Here they were again with Howard and his inability to pay his son any attention. No wonder Tony craved and sought attention from everyone else.  
  
"He makes you happy?" she asked as if it wasn't she who made the observation in the first place.  
  
"Immeasurably." Tony sipped his lukewarm tea then stared into it. "He'd been ignoring me for so long, but I have his full attention now, and that makes me so happy. I love it. I love him." Peggy frowned behind her cup. There was a fixation on attention that she wasn't sure was entirely healthy.  
  
"Well, he sounds perfectly lovely, darling, and I'm pleased that you're gaga over this guy," she said. Tony wrinkled his nose at the term, but his succeeding laugh effectively ended that conversation. "So how are you and your father getting along?" Peggy asked, moving onto a whole new topic while their teapot remained unfinished. It was a casual, rather polite question that received the curious reaction of Tony brightening up—not a reaction she'd ever seen of him before when it came to Howard.  
  
"Oh, I haven't told you yet: he approved my designs for Cygnus. Told the boys down at R&D to work out the production schematics as soon as I'd shown it to him. He said the designs were fantastic." His voice was indescribably proud, more than he should have been really, but Peggy was certain it wasn't of his undoubtedly fantastic designs, but because of Howard's notice and praise.  
  
"That's excellent," she agreed without missing a beat. "I'm glad he's finally starting to see was the rest of the world already knows: that you're an amazing inventor."  
  
"Well I've got a few more ways to go before I'd be as good as him. I can come up with concepts, but he can turn them into consumer-grade items, which is far more important I think. Concept items are, after all, merely for show. Production-line items are functional and money-making." She hummed non-committally into her cup. While she couldn't deny what he was saying, it was completely out of character for him to wax poetic about his father. Really, was this the effect of being in love? She’d seen it before, but couldn't really know for certain; it had been a while since she’d experienced it herself, after all.  
  
"Well, I'm glad to see you and your father getting along. It's about time, too," she said. Tony grinned brightly.  
  
They were finishing the last of their tea when Tony's cellphone rang. He checked to see who was calling and a look of pure joy spread across his face, making Peggy smile into her napkin as she dabbed the corners of her lips. It was the same look that Peggy had seen from him not an hour ago while he was telling her about his secret boyfriend, and she couldn’t deny that she shared in his joy when she saw it.  
  
"Gimme a second?" Tony said, looking up apologetically. It was obvious he was trying to keep a grin down.  
  
"No, no. Go on, it's fine. I'll grab the check," Peggy answered while waving him away. Tony stood and kissed her cheek then lifted the phone to his ear as he walked away.

He spoke softly into the phone, getting progressively softer as he walked away. But Peggy heard it anyway, something that she shouldn’t have heard at all.

"Hi, dad."

 

……………

 

Marie greeted her with the same respect she always greeted Peggy with, and for a brief moment, Peggy wanted to snap at her. But no, it wasn’t her fault that her boss was a sick fuck, and just because he was her boss didn’t mean she knew or condoned it. Peggy ignored her anyway and entered the room with barely a pause.

 

Howard looked up briefly, saw her, and then turned back to the paper he was looking at.

 

"Hello, Peggy," he greeted her absently like he usually did because he had no idea why she was here and that she _knew_. She took great relish in the way his head snapped up in annoyance when she slammed the door behind her, and strode over to his side of the desk. A mildly confused gaze tracked her progress, but he said nothing, and when she reached his side, she, without warning, pulled her fist back and clocked him right across the jaw. His chair, along with him, tipped over and tossed him onto the ground.  
  
"Jesus _fuck_ , Carter!" he yelled, cradling his jaw as he staggered to his feet. "What the fuck was that for?!" Howard Stark, pissed off, was a terrifying sight, but not for a woman who's known him for decades. Not for a woman enraged.  
  
"You're _sick_ , Howard. You're a sick, _sick_ man, and if you know what's good for you, you're going to stop it and find yourself a damned good shrink before I have you committed!" she yelled in a whisper. Howard said nothing, not a single word to deny her statement and correct misconceptions. Instead, wide eyes and a terrified expression overtook his rage.   
  
It was true then, Peggy knew, that she hadn't misinterpreted Tony's reactions and change of heart.  
  
"What are you—” She glared at him, daring him to finish that sentence. “It… it isn't what you think, Peggy," he said, suddenly frantic and fearful at the same time, but the damage had been done and had been trod on further by the pitiful denial. Howard Stark was a master of charm and a damn good liar, but those words were hilariously pitiful.  
  
She slapped his exposed cheek and reveled in the sharp crack that echoed in the room.  
  
"Don't you _dare_ 'Peggy' me," she hissed. "Jesus Christ, Howard! Tony? TONY?! What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?!" And there was a moment that he seemed on the verge of justifying himself (which Peggy probably would have punched him again for), but then he crumpled into himself, falling to his knees at her feet, a mere shell of the Howard she knew—she _thought_ she knew.  
  
"It isn't—I didn't... Peggy, I didn't mean for it to happen. To get this far. I didn't _want_ for it to. You have to believe me," he begged. She laughed derisively.  
  
"And yet here we are." He had nothing to say to that, it seemed. He merely hung his head, unmoving.   
  
"You are a sick, depraved human being, Howard," she chose to continue. "I thought you were bad enough with Maria when you cheated on her with every pretty young thing who could catch your eye.  I tolerated that; I said nothing. I continued to support you through all of it. I supported _her_ through all of it. I saw her cry, Howard; I heard her blame herself, get angry at herself, curse herself. Did you know that? Did you ever think of that? You broke her heart so many times, I oft wondered why she didn't just tear it out of her chest and be done with it. You took this confident, empowered woman that was good enough to get the great, the arrogant Howard Walter Stark to marry her, and you twisted her into a wreck of a human being that was probably _glad_ she was in that accident."  
  
Howard shuddered and hiccupped, but she wasn't done yet, not by a long shot.  
  
"And it wasn't just her. You hurt Tony, too. So many times in so many was that I can't even begin to explain just how broken he became. He hated you, and he loved you. He did his best to be like you, but he could never measure up to your expectations enough for you to spare him the slightest form of affection," she snarled. "I tolerated that. I allowed you to continue doing that and picked up the pieces in your stead, put him back together so that you could shatter him again.”  
  
"Peggy, please--"  
  
"Did you cry when Maria died? Did you shed a single tear? Because Tony cried for days and mourned for months. Her death killed what little joy he had in him. But you didn't notice, did you? Because you were too busy giving press conferences and interviews about how you were setting up the 'Maria Stark Foundation' in memory of a woman you never cared for."  
  
"I did, Peggy. I cared for her; I _did_." His face was tear stained, and Peggy wanted to believe him.  
  
"Well, you have a bloody fantastic way of showing that, Howard," she snarled. "By ignoring her and cheating on her, and now spitting on her memory!"

"It's—Peggy, no—"  
  
"You're _fucking Tony_ , Howard!" she cried. "How _could_ you? Are you no longer satisfied with the men and women who throw themselves at you for you pleasure that you had to drag your son into your bed? Have you no decency? No _shame_? You hurt him, Howard. And now you're going to ruin him!" Howard was stricken with guilt, with shame, with grief, and all Peggy could feel was satisfaction.  
  
"You're going to move away, Howard, or we are, and you are going to get help," she told him carefully. There was no misunderstanding her words. "I will take care of Tony while you sort yourself out." She tried to be kind about it. He was one of her oldest and dearest friends, and she loved him; she really did. But this was so far from sane that she was half tempted to get him exorcised. She had to protect Tony.  
  
"Do I need to get help then, too, Aunt Peggy?" came a calm voice from the doorway. Both her and Howard's heads whipped around to see Tony standing in front of the shut door. They hadn't even heard him come in. "Because if you're going to say that my father's sick for wanting to fuck me, you're going to have to tell me I'm sick for wanting to fuck him." Peggy shifted, turning all her attention to her godson and ignoring the man at her feet.  
  
"You aren't sick, Tony," she said. "You're confused. You've been manipulated by this man into thinking this is what you want—" Tony laughed.  
  
"It _is_ what I want," he said, a coldness in his tone that she'd never heard before. He carefully made his way over to them. "You didn’t let him tell you, did you? _I_ seduced _him_. He never thought of me that way before I did. This is all on me."  
  
"Because he made you think that this is the only way you could get his attention! Tell me, if he'd been half the father he was supposed to be, would you have resorted to those tactics at all? Would either of you be in this mess right now?"

 

“Maybe we wouldn’t, but the ‘what ifs’ don’t matter. Nothing could change what happened in the past, but this is the present and the future I chose in spite of it, and I’m happy with it! Didn’t you say that yourself? That you haven’t seen me this happy in a long while? _This_ is the reason why.”

 

“It’s not healthy, Tony! It’s not right!” Peggy said, anger and sadness coloring her words. Why was this happening? She’d never fought with Tony before, and now, she’s finding the need to defend her concern for him from him.

 

“By whose standards? Yours? Society’s? When have I ever pandered to standards beyond my own?” Tony asked. “I’m of age. He isn’t abusing me. He didn’t manipulate me. Everyday, Aunt Peggy, he tells me he loves me, and he’s proud of me. Isn’t that all that matters in a relationship? Why should it matter that he’s my father?” He stopped beside her. “You said yourself he wasn’t much of one before, so why would you point out now that he is?” Peggy bit her lip.

 

“Tony—”

 

“ _Everyday_ , he tells me how sorry he is that it had to come to this just for him to take notice. He tells me how sorry he is for wanting me like this. Do you know what that feels like, to have a lover who’s sorry for wanting you?” No one should ever be sorry for wanting Tony. He was brilliant and charming and gorgeous and irresponsible and childish so much of the time. He was the light of her life, and he deserved every ounce of love and attention showered on him.

 

Peggy glanced down at Howard who was watching Tony. His expression was as readable as a children’s book: regret and sadness and shame and concern, but more importantly, pride and adoration and love.

 

“I love him, Aunt Peggy. I want him. Tell me I don’t deserve to get what I want,” Tony said, reaching out to clasp her hand in his. And that request, said to any other person, would have been the height of self-centeredness, but Peggy would always tell him otherwise. She didn’t spoil him, no, not where it really matter. She only knew Tony better than any other person on the planet, and as such, she knew she couldn’t deny him.

 

But what he was asking for was a whole different story. She couldn’t understand, not yet. He had a point—he had lots of points, but she needed time to think and understand and maybe gather evidence for herself.

 

“I’m not your mother, Tony,” she eventually said and appreciated that Tony looked like he wanted to protest. “I can’t tell you what you should or should not do. Be with him if you must, but I just… I can’t support this right now. I need time to think.” She hesitated for a spilt second and then pulled him down by the back of his neck so she could reach his forehead for a kiss. Tony hugged her back.

 

“That’s fine, auntie. Take all the time you need,” he said. He kissed her cheek and then let her go. Peggy glanced once more at Howard, giving him a measuring look, then gave him a curt nod.

 

“I’ll see you later, Howard,” she said, aiming for cool professionalism rather than cold disregard. Howard gave back his own tight nod, and she crossed the room and exited it discreetly without further glance back.

 

……………

 

As soon as the door shut, Tony fell to his knees in front of Howard and kissed him before the older man could get a word in edgewise. Howard struggled against him, determined to speak, but Tony held fast, kissing him hard and long until the hands that were determined to push him away pulled him closer. And then he kissed Howard some more until his father melted against him. Only then did he pull away.

 

“She’s not wrong, you know,” Howard managed to say anyway, but that he pressed his forehead against Tony’s belied his conviction in his words.

 

“She’s not right either,” Tony answered. “I love you, Howard. That you’re my dad doesn’t change that.” Howard sighed heavily.

 

“I’m—” he started to say, but Tony cut him off.

 

“If you say that you’re sorry, I’m going to punch you,” he warned and ignored that Howard looked at him like he wanted him to do just that. “I meant every word that I told her. I know you doubt this will work, I know you always will, but please stop saying that you’re sorry you want me just because it’s not what society approves of. We shouldn’t let those who aren’t party to our bedroom dictate what we do in it. We don’t flaunt it; it isn’t a publicity stunt. This is ours, and we do it because we want to.” Howard bit his lip and dropped his head onto Tony’s shoulder.

 

“I shouldn’t want to want you, and it’s still difficult to wrap my head around that. I don’t know how you can say the things you say and think the things you think when you’ve been brought up in the very same world as I have,” he mumbled. Tony cracked a small smile that Howard couldn’t see.

 

“I think it helps that I have my father’s support in this,” he said which roused a small chuckle from Howard. The mood considerably lightened enough for Howard to lift his head, cup Tony’s cheek and kiss him softly.

 

“I’m sorry—” He held up a hand to silence Tony’s indignance. “—that I couldn’t see you for you before. Peggy...—I knew then as I do now that I could have been a better father to you. I just didn’t see the need then because I was convinced you were strong enough not to need me, and if you weren’t, I thought ignoring you would make you so. Peggy made me realize that you were strong— _are_ strong, but that you still needed me.” Tony kissed him.

 

“I’ll always need you,” he said. Howard stroked his cheek and kissed him back.

 

“I did love your mother, you know. I was an asshole—I still am—I slept around and treated her the same way I treated you, but I did love her, and I did care that she was gone.” Tony’s ‘I know’ was gently acknowledged. It was half-meant because Tony couldn’t have possibly known, but appreciated nonetheless. “I should have paid more attention before all this happened. I didn’t, and for that, I’m sorry. But I can’t honestly say I regret where it had taken us.” Tony smiled again and accepted Howard’s kiss. “I love you, Tony. I’m not sorry that I do.” Their kiss was heartfelt and sweet and chock-full with emotion, and when it ended, Tony silently stood and tugged Howard to the couch and held him until each of his lingering doubts was gone.


End file.
